TRAVELERChapter 54

Our hope is that every homosexual youth in this country can find a home
and someone to love them as they are.No one deserves to be discriminated
against, no matter what their differences from society's norm.

Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys. It contains no truth, partial truth, or half truth. What it does contain is stroking material. If this kind of story turns you off, or offends you, please find something else.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and underage children.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents eitherare the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitioiusly,and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businessestablishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Of course the requisite civil servant blocked my path. The area around the hospital was in chaos. Police cars from at least three, municipalities were visible. The news centers were sitting up their microwave antennas high into the air so that they could send their feed bouncing off of an antenna on the tallest building in town then directly to their stations for the interpretation of the news editors. I was at a loss as to how to get any information, let alone be able to get close enough to check on the boys. Kyle is my responsibility now. Like the idiot I am my brain suddenly clicked. I reached in my left hip pocket and pulled out the billfold with a federal badge and ID card that Andy had provided for me.
As I was trying to work the thing over the small belt at my waist. one of Andy's boys came running up to me with a snappy salute. "Welcome, sir. The CP is right over here." The little civil servant had an ugly scowl on his young face. He looked like he was taking his first big cock up his ass. I rushed off after the uniformed agent. Someone ran to me with a jacket that said Special Agent in large gold embossed block letters. I slipped it over my jump suit.
Bullets began to fly in every direction so I took shelter next to two agents that were returning fire to the kidnapers. I was listening to them tell me that four men had come in with full knowledge of our guards on the boys. Both guards were taken out with darts. They were still unconscious, their status unknown. Both Kyle and Branden were drugged and taken out of the hospital in a fireman's carry over the shoulders of two very large raiders. Our relief guards were coming in early and met the men in the front entrance. Shots were fired at them, but they dived for cover. The guards were reluctant to return fire for fear of a missed shot hitting one of the boys. Two raiders fell back to face down the guards and began to lay down fire.
A twenty one year old vet just home from Iraq raised up to fire and saw the first two kidnapers headed for a black van with someone in the open side door beckoning them on. Harry, the vet, liked to live up to his namesake, Dirty Harry. He pointed his long barrel .44 magnum at the front end of the van and let off two rounds. The rounds hit their target. The engine died and steam began to rise from the van. A third round caught the man in the open door as he jumped from the van and launched him back inside, against the far wall of the vehicle.
During this exchange Harry's partner had taken out both of the rear guard. One of the kidnappers set his boy on the ground and turned to fire. A forty four round parted his forehead. A black Bentley roared across the grass at the two agents. It was a very good time for Harry to carry a forty four. The well aimed bullet went directly into the front of the engine block and engine parts scattered from the still moving car until the engine locked up putting the two men inside face first into twin air bags.
Everett Rothsfeld threw open the driver's door and got out of the car with a tiny little .38 snub nose. I put a bullet in his hip with my Colt .357 that will make him walk with a limp for the rest of his life. Wilson Weller was firing two Uzzis before he was out of the car. He was cut down in a hail of bullets from the responding police department that had encircled the area. The other kidnapper was on his knees with Branden standing over him beating him soundly about the head and shoulders. Andy's man grabbed the boy and dragged him and Kyle to safety.

I was mobbed by the two boys as I stepped into the mobile command center of the local SWAT team. I was as relieved to see them safe as they were to see me. I had them removed to the hospital where they were both checked over then I demanded their immediate release. My car was brought around to a back door and a motorcade took off. The vehicles split up for different directions so that no one knew where anyone went. The boys and I were in one of the armored SUVs that headed out to the base. My rental Caddy was returned to the automobile rental company by an agent of the company.

I had a naked line up. Andy and I went down the line of boys with a digital camera and photographed every square inch of every boy. Fingerprints and DNA swabs were made and a small sample of blood was collected. The next part got me into real trouble with all thirty four boys. They lay back on the edge of their bed as a doctor and his assistant pulled their young scrotums aside, stretching the firm young skin taut. A very narrow safety razor was dragged across as small of an area as possible removing, every hair in about a half inch square area. An alcohol wipe of the area was followed by a tiny needle on a syringe filled with Novocaine®. An air gun with a very large diameter needle was inserted, just under the skin. With a slight pop it was over. Each and every one of us had a super miniature locator just under the skin and covered over by our balls. We could be tracked by satellite anywhere in the world for six months, before the power supply would run down.
The boys were all dressed alike in one piece nylon jump suits, that they hated because it was hard to get off for a quick get off. I ignored them as I lined them up to march out to a tent beside the our black, fŗĩęñďş Çłųß plane. Each boy held his own passport in his hand. Two men sat at a table under the tent. Two by two the boys presented their passports to be stamped by the custom's officials then they went on board the plane and took a seat along with the companion of their choice for our journey out of the country.
It was dark when we took off. We were not on any flight path where we would expect to come in contact with other aircraft. Our transponder identified us as an official State Department special flight. The boys settled down to sleep. What else could they do? I had a stack of DVDs for them to watch, but no one was interested. We had a four plane escort of heavily armed fighters with us. They could not refuel in the dark so each one broke off and was replaced by U.S. Navy fighters from aircraft carriers along our flight path. I don't know who Andy blows to get the perks he has, but there is more to this boy than anyone knows.

I was summoned to Andy's office a few days before our flight. I arrived early so I ducked into the head to take a leak. A second door opened from the back and Andy walked in removing the blue and tans of a U.S. Marine Corp bird colonel. He looked at me, "You never saw this." I turned and washed my hands and walked out the front door. Moments later his office door opened and he beaconed me in. He is too young to be a bird in the corp, isn't he? It has to do with his job. I have seen many Secret and Top Secret folders on his desk and have been privy to the contents of most of them. They are not run of the mill files. These are from some of our nations top intelligence sources. The boy is a wonder.

Since we didn't exist we couldn't land. While it was still dark we set down at a remote U.S. Air Base in the back woods of England. Our plane was tractored into a hanger and the huge doors were rolled shut before we deplaned onto a bus with blacked out windows. We were taken to a barracks where a breakfast bar of regular animal fare was offered. Without comment the boys helped themselves to the eggs and toast and fresh fruit. A few pieces of bacon were eaten by our newest boys, but no one said a word as they enjoyed themselves. We were told that we could sleep upstairs for a few hours then we would be transported to the Duke's Estate after lunch.
Sleep was the last thing my horn dogs wanted. They were in need of relief. I ended up in bed with Branden and Frank. The brothers had lots of questions and most of them were if I could put my dick here or there. Or, "does this feel good? Could you do that for a long time?" Sweet little questions from cute teenage boys. I am always the eager teacher so I tried to make their learning experience great fun. Branden's ass might be tender, but his cum was hot and sweet, Not to be beat out by his brother who shared his with me also.
Suddenly I jerked upright from the pain. "Anybody have a nail kit? Branden bites his fingernails." Oh, the jagged edge of rough nails as they pass through the anus is hard on the nervous system.
"No, I wish I did. Kenny has the same problem."
"We'll get a kit later this morning. You guys work with these new guys and help them get groomed." Every day or two we all get on the floor and give each other a manicure and a pedicure. Why stop with the hands when there are sexy, sweet feet around the room?

At 0800 someone knocked on the wall at the foot of the stairs and announced that the base commander would like to see me for some secret messages. I showered away the night and walked out into the bright morning mist from a thick pea soup type of fog like I have only seen in movies. Hey, I'm a desert rat. I like playing at the beach and we have more beach than anyplace else in the States. What we lack is water. Without water fog is very rare and even then you don't need a jack hammer to cut yourself a path through it.
An Air Force blue, crew cab pickup truck was waiting outside the barracks. The driver was an eighteen year old still wearing his pimples and baby fat. He was from a steel town in Indiana and had the coarseness of the streets all over him. I would have thought that the Air Force would have taken that out of him. I don't like what I see in our military today. Where are the men? Young Harry at the hospital, that was a military MAN.
The kid flipped his butt to the ground, still burning. I had always heard of field stripping. Someone else would have to come along and pick up his liter. I mentioned this to him as he sped across the base as if racing in a sports car. I was glad to get to the headquarters building alive and unhurt. The kid did have a snappy salute. A couple of months with my boys and he would loose his puffiness and his attitude.
I was shown inside the general's office. His two stars don't impress me. If a Lieutenant is at the lower end of the ranking and a Major is of a higher rank, then how come a Lieutenant General out ranks a Major General? What's the major problem anyway? The Maj. General was not too much more impressive than the young airman that had driven me over to the office. I was always of the understanding that our military overseas were like the ambassadors of our land. The people in other countries see these uniformed men and form their opinions of what they think the American people are. I was ashamed to be represented by these two examples. Then the general opened his mouth and I wanted him back on the farm teaching pigs better manners, or letting the pigs teach him.
"Show me yer ID." I stood and looked at him. "I got some Top Secret communy kay fer ya. Ya cleared to see it, where's that ID?" I pulled out my badge and showed it to him. He took it in his hand and read every word on the ID card that had my picture and thumb print on it, complete with the official hologram. He laid his unlit cigar in his overly full ash tray. "I heard about you people. You some sort of super spooks or something?"
"You have some communications for me general?"
"I wanta know bout this AN…"
"Don't! Our name! Our acronym! Our existence is never to be communicated, in word or writing! You do not have the clearance to speak that name in whispers! You may not write it down! You may not type it! You will not speak of our meeting because you do not have the clearance to talk to me. Now give me the files!"
"I can't do that. You kin sit over there and read this."
"I will take it with me. Any future information comes for me you may send it via armed messenger."
"Well, I don't think…"
"Keep it that way. You don't have the equipment for it. General are we going to have a problem? I can have you on a plane home in a couple of hours if we do. Now I want to see where my equipment is located." I picked up the thick file folder and turned for the door. The general actually got up and grabbed his hat. He took me down the hall to a locked door with a guard standing by it. The general placed his hand on the same sensor pad as I have on my front door. With his other hand he punched in his PIN. The door opened. The guard stepped aside with a salute as we entered.
Inside were three men monitoring banks of computer monitors. Keyboards hung on swing away arms about the room. The general walked over to the Lieutenant and stopped. He looked at me. A quick side bar, the Lieutenant was introduced with a capital letter on his rank. The general is lower case. Get the idea of the disdain I hold for this man with twin stars? He's got a long way to go to impress me. I stepped over to a palm reader on the wall. I put my hand in place and punched in my security PIN. A green light came on.
I turned and spoke to the young officer at the desk, "Lt. you have three longs. A short. A short and a long. What's the procedure? The Lt. drew his side arm. The Sgt. approached with the Airman fourth class. The young Airman reached and pointed at a button on the unit that said Foss International on it. The Sgt. Took a file folder and held it at the level that the paper would come out." He closed the folder and put it in a heavy canvass zipper bag that locked. Then handed the bag to me."
"Had that been a communique the first sheet would have been printed face up. We would lay that in this tray. It would state the recipient's name and location along with the total number of pages to follow. It would also tell us if more than one document would follow. All of those pages would print upside down. I do not touch any of the pages. The Airman lays the file folder in this tray. The pages slide out and into the folder. In case of a jam the Airman clears it as necessary. I am to make sure that he does not turn a page over and look at the other side. The Lt. is ready with his gun to shoot me if I try to read a page. When the last page prints the signal from the unit tells us it is clear. Both the Airman and I have been counting pages. If our count agrees with the cover sheet we close the folder and put it in the bag. A pair of armed couriers take the sealed bag to the recipient and we resume our other duties." This was the way Andy had explained it to me, but it was so neat seeing the people who made it work.
"If the count is off?"
"I press this button. Someone answers. I tell him. Each page is numbered on the back. I tell him what page numbers I have, not what is missing. The sender can then choose to send the page or the entire document again. If they send the document the original is placed in this crisscross shredder, one page at a time by the Airman as I keep a close eye on him and the Lt. watches both of us."
"Are you guys close friends?"
"We do not know each other. We are each from separate units and are part of a pool of technicians that work this equipment. We rotate in here on an irregular schedule so that the three of us should not team up together more than once every five years. If we should run into each other outside of this office we are required to submit a special report form indicating the circumstances and our actions or inter actions. We know that we are being watched. We are not under surveillance, but we are seen and if two of us should get into the same area word is sent for us to move away."
"Sounds complicated and expensive, in manpower."
"I wouldn't know sir." I thanked the three men and turned to the door.
"Sir, that folder in your hand. If you go through that door with that in your hand the guard on the other side is under orders to shoot you and clear up the reasons later. Let me put it in a plain manilla file folder." Somebody worked out a pretty spooky system. Sounds like something Andy would do, the silly cocksucker.
My satellite phone rang with Andy's ring tone. "Hello?" I spoke into the phone, this simple one word greeting let the caller know that I was not in a secure area. I told Andy that we had arrived and slept a little. We talked about the weather. This fog is so thick that I feel violated. Then I signed off with a simple, "see ya." Which is our code for as quickly as I can I 'll get back to you. But the word violated was a serious security breech code requiring immediate response. I set my beacon switch as I put the phone back in my pocket.
"Wow," I shook my head. "This is impressive. Now I need a quiet spot to do some reading." The Sgt. handed me a plain folder which I put my papers in. I gave him back the one marked Top Secret. The general showed me out of the door then had me go to another office. This office had four armed men in snappy uniforms doing paper work and what looked like make work. All four men snapped too at the general's entrance.
"Major, have our guest escorted to the lounge and post a guard."
"Yes sir," the Major snapped as he saluted the general.
Before the general could move I asked the Major a question. "Major I was sent a communique this morning via the general's office. Is that SOP?"
"Absolutely not sir. All communications from that room are for the recipient only. No third party is to intercept, sir." He looked at his men. The outer door burst open and four men carrying weapons in their hands came in. They were wearing CID vests over their uniforms. I took out my phone and turned off the beacon. I slipped my badge case in the vest pocket of the jumpsuit, badge showing outward. The four men stood down and waited.
"Sorry for the interruption, Major. You were saying."
"You're Mr. Dickson, right?" I nodded.
"Heath, Jacobs?" Two Airman sixes stood at attention. They looked at the general. He cleared his throat.
"I am the base commander. I told the men that I would deliver the files to you."
"Arrest him," I told the CID officer. "Take Jacobs's and Heath's sidearms. Major, relieve those men for the day, I indicated the other two Sgts. in the room. Reassign Heath and Jacobs, article fifteen seems sufficient. They had only followed orders of a superior officer, but they knew they had violated their standing orders in doing so. I'm sorry men, this is our nation's security. It is no game." I waved my folder at them.
The general was handcuffed and led away. A serious breach of security by a man of his position can not be tolerated. It is as bad as giving up the name of an undercover operative, or any classified information to a reporter. Anyone involved must stand and answer why and pay the price as the law allows. Just an hour later the general got the plane ride that I had promised him. I was taken to the lounge where I found a fresh pot of coffee, untouched. An Airman walked in with donuts and stopped short. I asked him if there was a guard outside the door. He had come from the back entrance. I asked for another guard. I gave the kid five bucks to go buy more donuts as I was going to help myself to two of the ones he now had. I poured a cup of coffee and sat down to read. I just hope that there are no more interruptions. Then I remembered Andy. I called him.
He had an update on the files he had sent me. I told him I was just now trying to sit down and read them. I told him about the interception. He went off. Andy doesn't rile easily, but he takes security very literally. He told me that I had to read then call him, this was crucial.

If I hadn't been sitting down I would have fallen down. Dubois was trying to get to Branden alright, but only so that they could get to me. Weller wanted me dead. There is a five million dollar price on my head. I must have really pissed the guy off. He had a Federal judge in his pocket who set bail at three million for Dubois. Weller paid it, in cash. He was supposed to be held without bail. The man was thought to be a flight risk, not out for revenge.
There had been six kidnappers. When the police closed in on the van they found out that Happy Harry and his trusty forty four had gotten two for one. The bullet that shut the engine down had passed through the carburetor and into the driver, leaving him with a belly full of gasoline and auto parts.
The six kidnappers were mercenary soldiers from a very rich oil…let's just say man in a sandy country. This man had been at the July party in New York. I had rattled his cage. When he found out that it was me that was bringing down his source of young boi meat he decided to put an end to me. Fortunately he doesn't know who I am. He just knew me as the Big Dick from the Big Apple and now I am down his people's backs. The bounty is for an unnamed person traveling with the small blond boy who would be King. Catch me, catch Cullen get rich quick
All of the kidnappers were on the nation's watch list of terrorists. They had disappeared in Spain just two days before. An agent reported a sighting of them at a small airport in Canada the day before, but that was unconfirmed. The six disappeared only to show up at the hospital. The New York State Police can confirm the sighting, they have five bodies and one very alive canary singing his heart out, in soprano.
I was making some serious enemies. So far they did not have a name, but I was being linked by circumstance. The oil man had some pictures of me and Cullen taken at a truck stop in upper New York. There was a shot or two of me getting out of a stretch Hummer with JB and Cullen and some of the other boys. A good shot of me and Cullen together buying munchies at the truck stop and one of me hugging him. The oil man put me together with Cullen at the fag bash. He would match the King's three quarter million dollar reward on Cullen and was paying five million dollars to have me killed.
This oil man was the money behind shutting down the Academy. Our inquisitioned subjects had sent lots of whine mail to him. By association he had pieced together my connection because of the scenes shown to those on the hot seat in the arena, as we had began to call the board room. Some of his whiners reported that these were scenes in which the oil man had been present himself. He had tied up all of the loose ends. JB and I were running a boy prostitution ring out of the Academy. We were in direct competition to his lucrative slavery business. He wanted me dead and the school closed. He had plans to raid the school and have all of the little faggots in residence come to reside with the new daddies he could provide them with.

I had to run to the restroom. The donuts must have been bad because they came back up with a vengeance. I had to go be with my boys. A long English tour bus pulled up as I walked out of the building. The door opened and Pete rushed over to me. Cory was right behind him. I must have looked like shit. They put my arms over their shoulders and nearly carried me on board. The doors were shut and we were on our way across some of the most unique countryside I had ever seen. A barf bag was found for me and the boys made way for me to lay down on the back seat.

I have a unique humor about me, or so I have been told. I like subtlety and a bit of tongue in cheek. I love to stab at the establishment and do so in ways that most of my readers don't realize what I have been saying. Such was the case in the last chapter concerning the security practices that Andy dreamed up. It seems that one reader thought it was ridiculous and expensive. He suggested that I use the old KISS method when describing our system. I could tell at once that this man has never been in the military. If there is one thing that no branch of the government can ever be accused of it is

Keeping It Simple, Stupid.

Redundancy is the name of the military's game. With over twenty five years as an officer in G-2, I have a good idea what the oxymoron, Military Intelligence actually means. If Andy's handling of classified documents seemed a bit redundant to you talk to an old soldier. I am sure he will have stories that will make you laugh your socks off.Another question had to do with Andy's chip. Since the Andy Finds Daddy series is over until the funeral and all I will try to explain here in layman's terms what Andy devised.

(For you Andy lovers a new series lays in wait for those who only wish to masturbate. Andy finds a son, appearing soon at porn sites everywhere.)

In order to really appreciate what is going on, you need to understand what a MAP function is. MAP stands for "Modular Arithmetic Processor". Andy's chip consists of one main CPU and several additional onboard processors that assist the CPU with certain tasks. One of these tasks is cryptography and the MAP processor implements all the encryption. When the main CPU wants to perform a math function it calls the MAP processor to give it some input and expects some output in return. By altering the paths of these MAP responses through the use of password encoding a mechanical function can be controlled electronically. Then with the addition of the thin film switches we have a unit that is capable of taking a five hundred and twelve bit encrypted entry and switch it around to different MAPs, eight hundred times a second. This seemingly random pattern will not be easily hacked. I won't say that it won't be hacked, but being mechanical as well as electrical a hacker will have to have the chip in his hand to break it. If you have followed the Andy series you know what will happen if reverse engineering is attempted on this chip.